


Keep You Running

by rainier_day



Series: Take Me Out [2]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Assassins & Hitmen, Gen, Hijinks & Shenanigans, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-23
Updated: 2019-07-23
Packaged: 2020-07-11 22:04:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19935232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainier_day/pseuds/rainier_day
Summary: At this rate, he’s going to miss his shift and the twins are never going to let him live it down. Going in for a target only to get stuck in their wardrobe?He’ll probably be laughed into retirement.





	Keep You Running

**Author's Note:**

> Snippets of Molly's time in Zadash
> 
> Thank you so much to superesonica for pointing out to me that I can use lyrics instead of song titles for fic titles. I am so bad at titles it's amazing.
> 
> Title's from "She's My Man" by Scissor Sisters (aka Nonagon and the Charm's theme)  
> Other notable mention is "Sugar Boat" by Modest Mouse

The wardrobe is dark and Molly’s doing his best to not panic but he’s pretty sure it’s been a solid chunk of hours now. At this rate, he’s going to miss his shift and the twins are never going to let him live it down. Going in for a target only to get stuck in their wardrobe?

He’ll probably be laughed into retirement.

Sitting and leaning against the thin wooden frame, he waits and waits, silk outfits brushing against his mask. Forcing himself to stay awake even as the morning hours dawn and the house comes to life—he waits, alert and ready.

In the darkness, Molly keeps himself as still as possible until he’s certain that no one will be venturing into this particular wardrobe for their clothes before allowing himself to relax a little. With adrenaline still pumping through his system, staying awake isn’t too hard though he suspects he’ll be fighting a losing battle soon enough.

He doesn’t know how long he sits there for but he can hear birds chirping outside and servants shuffling about, idly gossiping and preparing for the day. Eventually, he nods off only to be woken by a concerned voice in his mind, “ _Mollymauk, are you safe? It’s three in the afternoon. Where are you_? _Is it safe for you to talk?_ ”

“Desmond?” he mutters back sleepily. With a start, he sits up and looks around in the darkness, his heart skipping a beat in fright. But there’s air and space in here, no dirt pressed against his face, and no crushing weight on his chest. Taking a shaky breath, he adjusts his mask and remembers where he is. “I’m stuck at the target’s house. Second floor. Wardrobe. I’m locked in. …please don’t tell the twins.”

“ _Oh Mollymauk._ ” He hears the smile in Desmond’s voice, and that, more than anything, puts him at ease. “ _Stay put and wait for the signal. Help will be there tonight. I make no promises but let’s get you home first._ ”

Molly huffs and shifts a little to stretch out his back before whispering, “Understood. I’ll just…stay in here, I guess.” Just then, his stomach grumbles in protest. “Bring food?”

Three in the afternoon. Only another eight or so hours until his rescue—if he’s lucky. He sighs and tries to get comfortable, lifting his mask to rub the sleep from his eyes. 

For the next few hours, he drifts in and out of sleep, ignoring his growing thirst and hunger and the occasional bout of panic when he wakes to the suffocating darkness of the wardrobe. 

Time continues to crawl by until Molly’s startled awake again, but this time by approaching footsteps. Ears perking, he bristles when he notices how many of them there are and the distinct lack of whistling. He pulls his mask and hood back on and tightens his grip on his scimitars in anticipation. Pushing a particularly frilly dress out of his way, he pauses and glances up with a grin.

“This is where you heard it from then?” he suddenly hears from outside.

“Yes, sir.”

“Very well. Go and gather all the staff somewhere and keep them out of the way. We’ll deal with this.”

When the doors open, an explosion of laces and frills comes flying out the wardrobe. And following the barrage of clothes, leaping out with his swords at the ready, Molly manages to take out one of the guards before retreating to the side of the room to get a better look of the situation.

The window reveals that the sun has long since set and the target is there with five (now four) guards, all looking baffled and alarmed. Molly sighs and stretches out his arms, “It was my stomach growling that gave me away, wasn’t it?”

The guards charge him and he gives them a once-over before dodging out of the way. Not wasting any time, he makes a leap for the target and manages to kill the man swiftly only to get a sword to the back for his efforts.

Grunting in pain, Molly whirls around with the sword but the guard blocks his attack with a shield. He scowls and grits his teeth, reaching back to activate his other sword. All the while, his body reminds him how long it’s been since he last ate or drank anything.

He ducks out of the way of another attack and backs up until he hits a wall. Wincing, he wonders what kind of spectacle they’ll make of his body after they kill him.

Then the door bursts open.

They all turn and stare as a hulking figure steps in, clad in a cloak and mask identical to his. They seem to take a moment to study the situation before pulling out a great sword and brings it down with an angry shout. The swing takes out one of the guards with no issue, and Molly immediately knows who it is.

Grinning, he steps forward rejoins the fight. Together, they make quick work of the guards and regroup at the center of the room. “Here,” comes Yasha’s soft voice from behind the mask.

She’s holding up a waterskin that he accepts gratefully. “I should’ve known they’d send my charm. Have I ever told you how you’re my favourite person in the world and I love you very much?” he tells her in between gulps. “No food?”

“You can wait until you get home,” Yasha says, the affection clear in her voice. “It’d be weird to eat here with these bodies, you know?”

Molly huffs and walks over to pick up the proof of kill off the target. “I mean, I could’ve just walked into a different room to eat too. That’s fine though. Let’s go home, dear.”

She nods and sheathes her sword and the two of them step out of the room. The hallway is dark and unlit with all the servants still sequestered away elsewhere. “I’m sorry I couldn’t get here sooner,” she says, guilt colouring her voice.

“What are you talking about? You had amazing timing!” he replies earnestly, linking their arms together.

Yasha gestures at his back. “But you got hurt.”

Shrugging, he says, “It happens. I’ll live—though I might not have if you didn’t come when you did. You registered?”

Another nod. “The Charm. You’re never doing a job on your own ever again,” she tells him with an air of finality in her voice he rarely hears. “I’ll be there with you next time, I promise.”

Molly glances over and smiles. “You’ll hear no protest from me, new partner. So, this is the debut of Nonagon and the Charm, huh? We’re going to have a lot of fun, the two of us.”

\--

There’s a dirty wizard at the corner booth with a small suspicious halfling who may or may not be a halfling at all if that mask is anything to go by. Amusement bubbles up inside him as he watches the pair from the bar. The man is reading a book, which, really, screams of wizardry, and the halfling girl? Woman? She’s lifted her mask just enough to down an ale, guzzling it down like she’s been parched for days, and if he squints, he’s pretty sure those are yellowed fangs in her mouth.

Piercing blue eyes raise their gaze from the book and find their way to him. A shiver runs down Molly’s spine. There’s an intensity—a danger lurking beneath that shabby exterior. And even then, not so shabby as to hide his attractiveness.

Catching his gaze, the wizard quickly returns his attention to his book, a little bashful at having been caught. Molly feels himself smiling and Yasha shoots him a questioning look on her way back to the bar. He shakes his head and wraps his tail around his ankle to stop it from swaying with interest.

Just then, the door opens and a familiar human man walks in with a nod. Molly nods back and saunters over to the kitchen and pokes his head in. “Grabbing my stuff. Be right back.”

Bo spares him a pointed glance. “Mind my fruits.”

“That’s always my highest priority,” he replies with a salute. 

Ornna shakes her head as she heats up a skillet with her hand. “You need to stop sinking your money into exotic fruits, Bosun. If you keep this up, you’ll have to come out of retirement.”

“That’s between me and my fruits,” the half-orc grumbles back.

Popping back out, he grins at Yasha and leads the human to the back all while under the watchful gaze of the wizard in the corner. Internally laughing to himself, he supposes he’ll simply have to put on a show for this shabby wizard with the inquisitive stare.

In the back room, he waves at Kylre, who’s stacking empty crates for disposal. The devil toad nods back and simply returns to his task without another glance.

Taking the hint, the human pulls out the subscription and hands it over to him. “Thanks,” Molly mutters. Tucking it into one of the boxes by the door to be retrieved and read at his own pace later, he digs through another box and pulls out the payment for the man. “Give me ten minutes, would you? There were people watching and I have a reputation to keep.”

The representative sighs, probably wishing he had refused the first time this request was made. “Make it quick.”

“I’ve heard that one before. They normally change their mind though.” Molly leers at the man and waggles his brows, unable to help himself. Reaching up, he musses his hair and pulls his shirt partially up past his belt for a thoroughly dishevelled look.

After counting down the minutes, he waves the man off, who exhales in relief and leaves the room without another word. Waiting a minute more, Molly smiles to himself and departs, taking care to add a little extra swagger to his step. Glancing over at the corner, he can’t help but be pleased with himself when the wizard pointedly looks away as he passes.

Returning behind the counter, he drapes himself over Yasha and curls his tail around her leg for balance. “Did you have fun, Mollymauk?” Yasha asks, eyebrow arched in knowing amusement. Reaching over, she helps untangle his hair from the charms dangling off his horns and shakes her head in fond exasperation.

“Oh, you know I always do, dear,” Molly purrs back, leaning forward to give her better access.

He’s about to tell Yasha about the corner wizard and his halfling when he suddenly hears, _“Molly! Guess who? Are you awake? I hope you’re awake. It’s Jester! With Beau and Fjord of course! I just wanted to let you know—”_

Blinking in surprise, Molly bursts into laughter, earlier intention forgotten. “Got it, Jester. I’ll make sure there’s a plate of bacon ready for you.”

Yasha smiles. “Our favourite customers?”

Tail swaying to and fro in anticipation for whatever hijinks the trio are bound to bring, he grins and nods. “Our favourite customers.”

\--

The halls are silent as they walk through after another job well done. Despite this, something about the situation has him on guard. Glancing back at Yasha, he nods towards the garden. 

Better to scale a wall than risk being seen on the streets.

The hair on the back of his neck stand on end and he spares their surroundings another scan. 

Nothing.

Yasha nudges him lightly and he shakes his head. “Let’s go.”

As they step into the garden courtyard, they job over to the wall and Yasha laces her fingers together to give him a boost up. Leaping onto the ledge, Molly unhooks the rope from his belt and tosses it back down while scanning the alleyway on the other side for an anchoring point.

All the while, he can’t help but glance back towards the house, unable to shake the feeling of being watched.

Suddenly, there’s the sound of footsteps and shouting and he sees an archer running out onto a balcony with her bow aimed at Yasha. Narrowing his eyes at the archer, he feels a sting at his neck as he invokes his powers. The woman’s eyes fill with black and she drops the bow in surprise.

Leaping off the wall, Molly does a flip and easily lands on his feet and ties the rope to a protruding brick. He lets out a whistle and within moments, Yasha’s back by his side as arrows go sailing over their heads. “How many?”

“At least a dozen,” she replies.

“No one up above or in the house?” he asks.

She shakes her head. “Only the two archers.”

“Really. Maybe I’m just overthinking it.” Rewinding the rope, Molly takes a moment to flip his cloak inside out and she does the same. “Meet you back home?”

Yasha nods. “Be careful.”

He smiles. “I always am, my dear.”

They take off running in opposite directions just as the guards begin to appear in the alleyway. Half of the group begin chasing after him and he breaks into a sprint, using the back alleys to his advantage, weaving this way and that to lose them. 

One by one, the number of pursuers begin dwindling, although a stubborn few cling on to his trail. Starting to run out of breath himself, Molly veers sharply to the left around a corner and is nearly sent flying when someone crashes into him.

Instinctively reaching out, he grabs hold of the figure’s arm to steady them both.

Then he looks up.

 _Oh_.

Staring back at him is none other than the familiar half-elf disguise of a certain wizard without his usual partner. What did he call himself again? Bush Man? Mother and Child? 

Shrugging it off, he sees the wizard waving his hand in a magical way and brings a finger up to his mask and gestures for him to stay quiet. At this, the wizard seems to hesitate and glances at the direction Molly had come from. Turning his head, he can hear it too--the voices of the guards still giving chase.

Cursing quietly to himself, he pulls the wizard along and continues running.

\--

This ‘talk’ turned out the best possible way. Lying lazily on top of Caleb after another round of their mutually terrible idea, he tilts his head up and kisses the man’s chin and asks, “Are we all out of ideas then, Mister Caleb?”

“Breathing is an idea,” Caleb huffs, his cheeks flushed from exertion and hair clinging to his face, damp with sweat. Any embarrassment or reservation the wizard might’ve felt about this situation disappeared completely over the last hour or so. “A good idea.”

“Hmm, I’m not so interested in the good ones. Got any terrible ones?” Molly shoots back, carefully brushing aside the strands to get a better look at those blue blue eyes. 

Caleb turns his gaze on him, still razor sharp and focussed, and he can feel his tail curl in anticipation. “I may have some of those yet.”

“I should hope so. Wizards are supposed to be smart, aren’t they?” Smiling crookedly, Molly shifts further up a little for a kiss and is pleasantly surprised to find Caleb returning it with equal fervor. 

Hands wrap around his waist and a tongue runs roughly over his fangs. Molly moans into the kiss and shifts his weight, rolling back willingly, curious to see what kind of idea this clever wizard has in mind. Caleb pauses and pulls away, eyes raking over him hungrily. He feels a shiver run down his spine but holds himself still, watching and waiting. 

After what feels like an eternity, the corner of Caleb’s lips quirk up. “Ja, I think this will be sufficiently terrible.”

“I’ll be the judge of that,” Molly bites back with a grin, unable to conceal his excitement.

“So you will, Mollymauk,” the wizard murmurs back, his smile growing just ever so slightly.

\--

“Are you sure?” Yasha asks quietly, guilty frown on her lips. “Maybe you should spend the night at Caduceus’ instead.”

He wants to react more but the injury in his side doesn’t allow for very much movement. It’s a couple of hours before dawn and they’re standing outside Caduceus’ house amid the melting muddy slush. Snow is still falling from the sky but they’ve both long since grown used to the weather here in the Empire. “I’m sure! Don’t worry! You do what you need to, dear. I’ll be fine. It’s just a short walk home anyway. You know how worried they get when we don’t get home before dawn.”

She glances up at the sky uneasily and nods. “Make sure you get your bandages changed, okay? And don’t take on any new jobs while I’m gone.”

“I never do,” Molly reassures her. “Anymore, I mean. It’s Nonagon and the Charm now, remember?”

Thunder roars in the distance as if beckoning her.

“I’ll be back as soon as I can. I promise,” Yasha tells him solemnly. Leaning down, she places a kiss on his horn. “I love you, Mollymauk.”

He smiles and kisses her back on the cheek. “Love you too, Yash.”

Watching her disappear before walking down the street in the opposite direction, the walk is longer and colder than he expected. When he finally makes his way back at the tavern, it’s already dawn and nearby vendors have started coming out the clear the slush from the front of their shops. He slips in through the backdoor and passes Gustav’s office only to hear, “Mollymauk?”

Pausing in front of the stairway, Molly turns around to see Gustav standing there. Waving sheepishly with his uninjured side, he says, “Hello. That took longer than I expected.”

The half-elf takes one look at him and frowns. “Do you need help with that?”

“Yeah, the bandages got kinda wet on my walk back,” Molly replies.

“Alright, I’ll have Desmond come by later since you’re always complaining about how rough I am,” Gustav says with a dismissive wave.

Smiling, he points out, “I can’t help it if Desmond is better than you at patching people up. He’s just got those gentle bard hands, you know?”

A scoff. “If you’re awake enough to complain about such minor things then you’re not that injured. …was it the same people?” Gustav asks. There’s a dangerous flash in his eyes and Molly suddenly remembers who it was that taught him how to wield his swords.

He shrugs and immediately winces at the movement. “Maybe? None of them really caught my attention except for this big human lady who got me pretty good. I’ll keep an eye out.”

Gustav nods. “Yes, do that. And maybe change up your targets for next time. We need to get to the root of this. Has Yasha left already?”

“Yeah, I made sure she got healed first before she went off Yasha-ing though,” Molly says.

Making a thoughtful noise, Gustav retreats to his office with a final nod. “That’s good. I’ll keep an eye out for this as well. Get some rest, Mollymauk.”

Molly waves and starts up the stairs before pausing midway to ask, “What are the chances the twins will cover for me tomorrow?”

Arching a brow, the half-elf tells him, “You’ll have to ask them yourself.”

He lets out an exaggerated sigh and whines, “But they always make me beg and grovel and buy them things on my day off.”

Gustav chuckles. “Are you surprised? Mona and Yuli don’t do things for free.”

“I know. People never do things for free—except Yasha. Yasha wouldn’t do this to me,” Molly mutters, making his way up the stairs.

Desmond finds him in his room later struggling with his clothes and offers his assistance. After rewrapping his bandages, Molly lies down the best he can without agitating his injuries and closes his eyes only to wake up to Toya at his door, calling for him to start his shift. 

Blinking blearily, he sits up and hisses in pain. A glance outside tells him he slept well into the afternoon, though it’s hard to ascertain any more than that with the storm still going on. He calls to the door, “Toya, dear, are the twins still around?”

“No, they went out shopping this morning!” Toya replies. “Are you okay, Molly?”

“I’ll be fine,” he replies with a sigh. Dragging himself out of bed, he tells her, “I’ll be right down, kiddo.”

There’s an indignant noise from outside that has him smiling. “I’m technically older than you, you know!”

Luckily for him, he only ends up doing half his shift before Bo takes pity on him and takes over for him. After a quick supper, he retreats to his room and sits down on his bed in thought, trying to replay their job last night to figure out what went wrong and any patterns he might’ve missed.

It’s hard to keep track of how much time’s passed when there’s another knock on the door. “Mona, Yuli, if that’s you, we’re going to have words and maybe fists and a lot of guilt tripping,” Molly grumbles. 

“I am afraid I am not Mona or Yuli,” comes the soft reply, the Zemnian accent making him perk up. 

“Lucky you then. Come on in. The door’s unlocked. A warning though, not the prettiest sight right now,” he replies, not bothering to stand up.

The door opens and Caleb steps inside, looking appropriately on guard. He seems relieved when he looks around the room and doesn’t find a corpse hanging out of a drawer. Then turning to him, he asks, “Did something happen?”

Instead of answering, Molly asks back, “Caleb, have you done any jobs lately?” 

\--

Something isn’t right. 

And whatever that something is, it’s sending his senses into overdrive.

Even as he pulls his blades out of the target, Molly can’t help but glance over his shoulder warily. Yasha tilts her head questioningly but he shakes his head. Walking over to the target’s corpse, he quickly grabs the proof of kill and gestures for them to leave.

Sensing his discomfort, she nods and they take off back down the hallway toward the entrance they came in from. When they turn the corner, they hear voices in another room discussing their plan of action and freeze.

The voices are unmistakably Beau and Jester.

Exchanging glances, they take off running toward the voices and burst into the room without thought only to find a pair of elderly humans and a thin figure donning a hefty war mask. At their entrance, the trio immediately snap to attention and ready their weapons.

He’s about to call out to them when he sees something approaching them out of the corner of his eye. Pivoting on his heel, Molly pulls out his blades as a figure comes flying towards them. Parrying the great sword, he recognizes the barbarian as one of the women they’d run into before. 

Hissing in Infernal, Molly feels his arms give way under the strength of the woman and she pushes him back and he leaps out of the way of another swing. Behind him, he hears Beau, Jester, and Fjord shout in surprise as more figures emerge and within minutes, they’re also trying to fight off people from the same group.

Somewhere to his side, Yasha is currently engaged in combat with a large bald man who’s matching her blows with frustrating ease. Molly tries to edge closer to her to help when he spots a glimmer of silver in the darkness. He manages to duck out of the way of one arrow only to get another lodged in his side followed by another hit from the barbarian woman, which sends him flying to the ground. 

Hissing, Molly leaps back to his feet and rips the arrow out and shouts a curse in the direction the shot came from. He hears a yelp and is about duck under the barbarian’s next attack to go after the rogue when everything suddenly goes silent.

Thrown off balance by his abrupt deafness, Molly skids to a halt to try and find his bearings. Suddenly, there’s a hand on his back pushing him out of the way of an icy blast. 

Eyes wide, he stumbles forward and turns around to see Yasha on the ground, a coat of ice clinging to her cloak. Her eyes find his and despite his deafness, he hears the command loud and clear.

 _Run_.

He hesitates.

In the oppressive silence, her mismatched eyes hold his gaze and she shouts it again.

 _Run_.

With great reluctance, Molly nods and takes off, dodging another swing from the barbarian. Up ahead, he sees Jester and Fjord on the ground, disguises dropped and unmoving, and Beau, bloodied and struggling to stay on her feet to defend them against a smiling half-orc. Reaching out, he pulls her back by her uninjured arm and drags her away, oblivious to whatever protest she may have.

They run down the hall when their ears suddenly pop and sound comes rushing back in. Beau immediately tries to yank her arm back again. “Who the fuck do you think you are!? Let go of me!”

“We have to go if we want a chance at rescuing them!” Molly snaps back, tugging her forward only to wince in pain. “Fuck!”

She makes a surprised noise behind the hefty war mask. “Mol—is that you?”

“Yes! We can’t let them catch us too, so c’mon,” he hisses, letting go of her arm. The shock is wearing off and the pain’s starting to come in violent waves now. Luckily, Beau takes the hint and begins running with him. Ignoring the sound of the voices chasing after them, they sprint out of the building and down the empty road back towards the sewer passage. 

They run part-way through the sewers before coming to a stop, reasonably sure that they’ve lost their pursuers. Beau is cursing up a storm and if it weren’t for how much it hurt to _breathe_ right now, he’d be doing the same.

Molly frowns and clutches at his side. Ripping the arrow out had been a mistake. “Can you still walk? We need to find somewhere close and somewhere safe.”

Beau glances down at her shoulder and surveys her other wounds and nods. “I’ll live.” Then taking off the haversack she had on her back, she opens it and puts it down and tells him, “Get your disguise off. We can’t walk around town like this.”

He frowns for a moment before slipping off his mask. “Yeah, good call.”

“It really is you then,” she mutters, pulling her helmet off to reveal a pair of goggles. As he pulls off his cloak, Beau winces at the sight of his injuries. “Shit. So where do we go? We need help.”

Looking up, he tries to visualize the town above them. The tavern’s too far and too public and Caduceus’ is even farther. Then an idea hits him. “Caleb. We go to Caleb’s.”

\--

Molly doesn’t sleep that night. 

Instead, he waits until Caleb’s breathing evens out and the gentle grip on his tail loosens to open his eyes again. Glancing up at the wizard, he notes how much younger the man looks without the constant furrow between his brows and the frown on his lips.

He doesn’t understand Caleb.

It would’ve been so much easier to take the out he provided, but instead, the wizard went and reaffirmed his desire to help. And while it was spoken with conviction, Molly has a hard time believing it. 

Because no matter how gentle his hands or soothing his voice, people don’t do things for free.

Except Yasha, but that’s because she loves him.

Thoughts drifting back to his partner, he curls a little closer to Caleb and wraps his tail a little more snugly around the man’s arm. While the wizard’s nowhere near as steady or calming a presence as Yasha, Molly still finds comfort in his warmth and the steady pulse in his wrist. 

People don’t do things for free, but it hardly matters now what Caleb’s endgame is, Molly thinks as he tucks his head against the wizard’s shoulder. If it means he’ll get his charm back, he’s willing to pay any price.

**Author's Note:**

> This wasn't supposed to be rated M but everything in this series seems to have a way of getting there. Reading back now, these two goobers had such different '??' to 'oh no feelings' moments


End file.
